Left
by kaloe
Summary: Based wholly on what you can see in the movie. This is not comic-canon by any means. "You noticed that guy, too? I mean, what kind of journalist asks where you get your socks? Pepper, they are only getting weirder. Journalists, not socks."


Only a woman accustomed to looking at Tony Stark in a sneaky, sidelong manner would get to know his nose so acutely. It's actually a rather nice one, so it's not like Pepper's complaining or anything, she'd just like to see more of his eyes. Or at least the other side of his face once in a while.

Something else Pepper has noticed is that, for all the work that is done for him - including his laundry, dry-cleaning, cooking, driving - Tony is a little neurotic. He doesn't care about mess, as such, or stray oily shirts lying around here and there, he just likes things to be _right. _She came to realise this when they were at a big charity event last month.

Tony was on her right in the car, and the first to get out amid the flashing cameras and yelling journalists. When he held out his hand for her to take, she twigged it was his left, thus enabling him to remain on her right. When she was standing fully, albeit a little shakily in her new Versace heels, his (left) arm snaked around her waist and they proceeded to smile for what felt like every camera in the world, before a minute later taking off up the steps to the large, oak-paneled foyer.

"Tony, don't you think that was a little inappropriate?"

"You noticed that guy too? I mean, what kind of journalist asks where you get your socks? Pepper, they are only getting weirder. Journalists, not socks; socks are actually pretty reliable."

"I meant us just standing there together. You had your arm around me like I was your... your _girlfriend_ or something," Pepper said, looking around nervously for a moment, as though there might be someone ready to take a picture from behind the enormous potted palm.

When she looked back at Tony, he was staring at her. "So?"

"So, I don't want people getting the wrong idea. Everyone knows how you... _are_."

"How I _am_?" Tony mimicked, like an irritating big brother she just wanted to punch in the face.

"You _know_ what I'm talking about. Stop patronizing me, Mr Stark," Pepper admonished, attempting to lift one foot off the floor to readjust the strap that was rubbing against the back of her heel. All she was succeeding in doing was repeatedly lifting and dropping her foot like she had a nasty cramp because the risk of falling on her ass was too great to try infront of Mr Stark.

"I don't--" Tony sighed. "Ok, fine, I'm _sorry_. Is that what you wanted? I just don't like being alone in photographs at this kind of thing, that's all. Nothing more. It was something my dad did, and I... I guess it just stuck. Whatever." Tony waved his hand around dismissively and looked at the marbled floor. They were the only ones in the room, but the noise coming from the bar and dance floor filtered easily through the large glass doors to Pepper's left.

"I didn't mean to pry, Mr Stark. Forget I said anything. Let's just go in."

Tony's head snapped up. "Jeez, Pep, keep up; that was all outta my ass. I love being in photos on my own. They make the best ones," he grinned, and Pepper just stood there feeling not unlike an idiot as Tony snip-snapped across the floor in his shiny shoes, calling back, "Martini, Miss Potts?"

So that was the first time Pepper realised Tony had to always have her on his left. For a while she thought it odd that it wasn't the right - she was his right-hand man, woman, whatever - but discarded the thought until a couple of weeks later at the board of director's meeting in a very tall building with a very long elevator ride.

They stepped into the elevator and Pepper was _sure_ Tony went out of his way to stand on her right. She was sure of it this time. She watched him for a moment, just standing innocently by the pad with all the floor numbers on it, not sure how to continue.

"Why do you do that?" she asked him finally, now unable to contain her findings.

"Uh, Pepper, not sure if you've noticed, but you gotta push the button to get the elevator to move in an upward direction. Is this why you're always so late to my office when I call you in?"

"That's not funny for a number of reasons, Mr Stark," Pepper said, even though she did laugh a little bit at her own expense. "The most prominent and obvious being that I am never late to your office."

"Okay, so why do I do what?" Tony asked, and turned his body to face hers, arms folded, leaned against the hand rail at the edge of the tiny room.

"Well, you actually went out of your way to stand there just now," Pepper pointed at Tony's shoes.

"I'm sure any guy with eyes in this building would've done the same."

Pepper tried really, really hard not to blush. Damn fair skin. Must wear more make-up.

"It's so _endearing_ watching you blush, Miss Potts, and so satisfying. I think a little compliment goes a long way with you."

"I think it takes one to know one, Mr Stark, with all due respect." Hiding smirks from Mr Stark was no easier than hiding a blush.

"Proud of that one, are we?" Tony deadpanned.

The elevator doors opened, and the enormous, air-conditioned conference room looked back at them through the eyes of twenty men in scary-looking suits. They stepped out of the elevator and Pepper moved closer to Tony.

"I'm proud of _you_," she murmured, so only he could hear.

Tony sailed through that meeting.

But that was a week ago now, and she had not yet solved the mystery of the Pepper-glue on his left hand side. It could not wait. Without introduction or even knocking, Pepper barged into his workshop in the basement. He was standing at the workbench picking at a small dial on the side of some pickle-shaped lump of steel that would no doubt sprout arms and legs as soon as she spoke, asking whether or not she would like an olive in her martini.

To her surprise, Tony jumped backward, immediately stripping off the thick leather gloves he was wearing and facing her straight on. "What's wrong, what happened?"

Pepper was taken aback slightly, and she held her hands up, palms toward her boss, shaking her head. "It's fine, Mr Stark, everything's ok. But if I knew coming in here unannounced would get me such undivided attention I'd do it more often."

Tony lifted an eyebrow. "And what would one Pepper Potts do with such complete attention?"

Well, she _had_ walked right into that one, so she tried her best.

"Tell you to go clean your room like a good boy."

"And do bad boys get punished?"

For God's sake, Tony. "Mr Stark, I came here to ask you a very pressing question, and I'd appreciate it if you would not distract me."

Tony said, "are you getting the dirty images too?" and put on an exaggeratedly serious face.

"I just noticed that everytime I go with you to some kind of event, you fix it so I am always on your left. I mean, thinking back on it and looking at pictures, I am always on your left. Why? What's wrong with your right side?"

Tony narrowed his eyes at her, then looked at the workbench, aimlessly started plucking at a mound of sawdust, and sighed. "Well this is embarrassing. Tell you what, don't I have that American Airlines cocktail party thing tonight?"

"At the Plaza at eight, yes."

"Come with me, wear that blue dress and I'll tell you."

"Tony, please, I hate that thi--"

"Hey! That was a birthday present from me. Don't insult my _achingly_ good taste." He sort of moaned the word 'achingly', and the sound kind of made Pepper want to agree to anything he might ask her. She did not tell him this, for she feared even his vat of a workshop could not contain an ego inflation of such magnitude.

So here they are at the American-Airlines-cocktail-party-thing and Pepper is at a complete loss as to why on earth they are even here. Upon arrival, three people offered Tony the chance to purchase a new, improved version of their newest, improved jet. He had politely declined, telling them that if he ever had some spare change jingling around, he'd give them a bell. After that she had danced with three men, one of which gave her his phone number (she didn't mind, he was nice, but didn't hold a candle to Mr Stark), one went all out and tried to kiss her (this could have had something to do with the liquor in his system - there was enough of it to knock Iron Man out cold), and the other one smelled of something she couldn't quite place but reminded her oddly of her grandmother's funeral. He was old so this didn't really surprise her.

And now Tony is nowhere to be seen. Part of her knows that he has probably gone somewhere out of sight like a patio or balcony, so when she goes to try and find him they will be alone and he'll practise some of his best lines on her and the next day she'll feel like an idiot for passing him up because really... really, there is nothing she'd like more than to wake up on _any_ side of Tony Stark.

With this is mind, and feeling slightly melancholic for it, she wanders down a hallway off the main dancefloor, past the bar and further into the large, chrome-encrusted building before detecting a definite drop in temperature - like a door is open somewhere. Jackpot.

The blue dress is starting to feel like the biggest mistake of her life, not only because she is about to be alone in a room with Tony Stark, but also because the car ride did not give her a clue as to how cold it would be without her (way too thin to be useful) shawl. And sure enough, rounding a corner into a room with a grand piano, a small bar and not much else, she finds Mr Stark standing infront of some glass-paneled doors thrown wide open onto a garden that overlooks downtown L.A. She can only see his silhouette, but it's him for sure.

"Tony," she says, and he turns on his heel to glance at her over his shoulder. "I was hoping you'd answer my question."

He turns back to the view, and she stays in the doorway. "Would you like to guess the answer first?" he takes a sip from his glass and she shivers.

"Not really," Pepper sighs, then hesitates. "On your left... _left_. Is it something to do with..."

"Getting warm." He just _chuckled_.

"... With being all you have _left_?"

He is silent for only a moment before he starts to laugh. Pepper is more than a little embarrassed. "No, no, it's not that. But that's... that actually works, doesn't it?" Tony's face falls and he looks over his shoulder at her. "Come up here and look at this view."

Pepper complies and wobbles up the two steps to fall into place on the left of Tony. His arm is warm and strong around her waist as it pulls her against his body tightly, and she's had enough of working this week to even bother fighting the impulse that tells her to rest her head on his shoulder and sigh like she's his wife or something. She closes her eyes briefly and wonders why she's never paused to see it before.

Pepper is always on Tony Stark's left because it just feels _right_ to him. Like making sure the Audi is always parked next to the Mercedes, and the Ferraris are always next to the rear garage door, it is just the way it has to be with him.

"Figured it out yet?" Tony's voice is low and deep. It rumbles through his chest and Pepper can feel it in the pit of her stomach, stirring up something that feels too good to merely put a name to. It is a feeling that needs an _experience_ to go with it, she thinks unashamedly.

Pepper turns her face into his neck and breathes deeply, suddenly feeling incredibly carefree after the spicy cocktails they've been serving at the bar all evening. "I think so," she whispers. "Might need to do some more research."

"Let me put my glass down," Tony says.


End file.
